


Coming Home to That Sweet Gal of Mine

by cython_killa (AlsaTronic)



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Crossdressing, M/M, Sex on Furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlsaTronic/pseuds/cython_killa
Summary: Eugene’s got to get through a day of work on the ranch before he can see the surprise Merriell has for him at home.





	Coming Home to That Sweet Gal of Mine

As much as Eugene enjoyed being around the horses on this ranch, working with them and getting to enjoy the wonders of nature, his job wasn't the main thing on his mind at the moment. No, even as he brushed down one of the mares, he kept thinking about last night. After their “nightly activities”, he and Merriell had finally settled down, and Eugene himself was on the verge of drifting off when Merriell had whispered something in his ear. Something about having a surprise waiting for him tomorrow evening, and how he’d better not get back a minute before 7. Being so close to sleep, Eugene didn’t think too much of it, just made a quiet noise of agreement and nodded off.

Morning had been a whole other matter. Try as he might, Eugene couldn’t get Merriell to say anything more about his little surprise. No amount of kissing, hugging, or feeling up Merriell’s thighs at the breakfast table was going to make him cough up any more details. Well, Eugene Sledge was no fool (despite what a certain curly-haired, pretty-eyed Cajun man might say to the contrary). He knew when he was defeated, and he had been soundly bested by Merriell’s typical stubbornness. So, rather than keep trying to squeeze blood from a turnip (and likely end up late to work), Eugene let his husband see him out the door with a goodbye kiss on the lips. He had to laugh when Merriell thought it necessary to remind him again what time to be back home by.

Eugene got shocked out of his reminiscing when the mare he was brushing, Hunny, decided to bring his attention back to her by gently knocking his hand with her head. He apologized to the poor girl and resumed brushing her down, promising to give her an extra apple later (which he would’ve done anyway, since Hunny’s his favorite). Eugene shook his head and sighed; getting distracted like that wasn’t the brightest idea on a ranch full of large animals that could hurt themselves or someone else if not properly supervised. The last thing he needed was one of the horses breaking through a fence because he was off daydreaming. Besides, constantly thinking about what Merriell had in store for him wasn’t going to make the end of the day come any faster.

He resolved to put the whole matter out of his mind for the time being. For the rest of the workday, he absolutely did not think about Merriell or any surprises he might have waiting for him at home. He didn’t think about it when lunch rolled around and the menu reminded him of how Merriell used to pack a lunch for him (Eugene’d had to ask him to stop because the spread he was bringing in to work with him made the other guys jealous). He definitely didn’t think about it when he saw a patch of wildflowers near the stretch of fence he was inspecting that looked a lot like some flowers he’d picked once for the sole purpose of putting in Merriell’s hair (the man had let them stay there a good while, and Eugene fell a little more in love with him that day). He didn’t even think about it when giving his report to his supervisor, and he caught sight of one of the other wranglers atop a horse and had a fleeting impression of how good Merriell would look on horseback in full riding gear. _That_ particular daydream he put the brakes on immediately because this was his _boss_ he was in front of for fuck’s sakes. He was pretty sure that getting hard in front of his boss wasn’t part of the job description.

By the time 6 pm rolled around, Eugene felt half-mad and was antsy to get back home. He made sure to say goodbye to everyone because he wasn’t raised in a barn, but then he was off in his truck, cruising down the road towards the quaint little house he and Merriell called a home.

Of course, he was in such a damn hurry to get back that he got back earlier than usual and had a little over half an hour to spare. He banged his head softly against the steering wheel, cursing his eagerness. Eugene supposed he could just go in now, but Merriell seemed rather adamant about not coming back too early. And he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was Merriell had planned. So, once again he found himself doing whatever he could to take his mind off of waiting. He turned the radio on and tuned it to something country (which was about all you could out there). Then he started rifling through the glove compartment for something at least mildly entertaining. When his hand landed on a rectangular box, he dragged it out and saw it was a deck of playing cards. Well. It was better than nothing.

After God knows how many songs about losing your girl, losing your best friend, losing your girl to your best friend, and your dog dying on top of it (now that was just cruel), Eugene never wanted to hear the word “solitaire” again. He checked his watch. It said he had five minutes to go. He thought about calling it a liar, but decided that talking to inanimate objects, especially out loud, was not a good look. Instead, he got out of the truck and tried to pass the rest of the time walking around it. Repeatedly. Checking his watch religiously the whole time.

He broke with just a minute to go, sprinting for the porch. Surely, whatever Merriell was planning had to be ready by now, right?

The house was oddly quiet when Eugene went in, but that wasn’t the first thing he noticed. What caught his attention was the subtly sweet scent of fresh cornbread wafting from the kitchen. He knew that scent well; it was his mother’s recipe, after all. He smiled to himself, touched that Merriell would go to such lengths to give Eugene a taste of his old home life. He headed for the kitchen, intent on thanking Merriell profusely for thinking of him like that, but the words died on his lips when he got there.

There was, in fact, a pan of cornbread left on the counter by the sink to cool. But that had nothing on what was on the kitchen table.

Merriell lay on the table, upper body propped up on his elbows and legs spread, showing off the black panty and stocking set (with matching garters, of course) he was wearing. Eugene somehow had the presence of mind to wonder where he possibly could have gotten those from. No way in hell would Merriell have just walked into a store and casually put down money for something like that, even if he made up some bullshit story about them being a “gift for the missus”. Did they even _have_ any stores around here that sold things like that? He also wondered where Merriell got the (surprisingly well-fitting) yellow sundress from, with its skirt hiked up past his knees, making him look almost like he’d already been fucked.

Maybe it was all mail-order.

The two of them locked eyes, and when Merriell crooked his finger in a beckoning gesture, Eugene followed like a stunned zombie. He stood between Merriell’s legs and the two men pulled in close to each other. Eugene buried his face in the crook of his husband’s neck and took a deep breath, needing a brief respite from the vision before him. God, was Merriell wearing perfume, too?

“Surprise,” Merriell whispered in his ear.

Eugene had a feeling that whatever was about to get started wasn’t going to make it to their bedroom. Still, he had to put up at least a token protest for propriety’s sake.

“Merriell. We _eat_ off this table.”

Merriell tightened his thighs around Eugene’s waist. “Gonna be doin’ more than eatin’ off it tonight, Gene.”

Well, no one could say Eugene didn’t at least try to maintain some sense of decorum in his house.

Roughly an hour later (hard to keep track of time when the love of your life was moaning your name like his life depended on it), they were both exhausted and looked like they’d crawled through a hurricane together. The lacy black panties had practically been torn off and flung in a corner of the kitchen. What little fragrance Merriell was wearing (seriously, where did he get this stuff from?) had long since been covered by the smell of sweat and sex. The sundress was fine, for the most part. It would probably take a small miracle to get those stains out of it, though. As wrung out as Eugene felt, Merriell was virtually dead on his feet, so he showed him a little mercy and helped him up the stairs.

He sent up a quick prayer of thanks for the craftsman that build that table so sturdy.

~⚜~

Not quite ten minutes went by before Eugene dashed back down the stairs to the kitchen to stash the cornbread somewhere in the fridge, making sure to cut himself a piece first. Even the most mind-blowing sex couldn’t make him forget about Merriell’s cooking.

**Author's Note:**

> If it’s got horses and the word “ranch” in it, it’s totally a Western, right?


End file.
